


fear and loathing

by leo_moon



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: :), Drugs, F/M, Mentions of crime, Oral Sex, Sex, Smoking, Smut, vegas baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23369224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leo_moon/pseuds/leo_moon
Summary: In the years before Agent Peña was shipped to Colombia, he spent his time lost in the lights of Las Vegas, entangling himself with the lounge singer of the Flamingo Hotel and Casino.
Relationships: Javier Peña/Reader, Javier Peña/You
Kudos: 17





	fear and loathing

**Author's Note:**

> “Oh, maybe I was a little too wild in the 70s  
> Back down to earth with a lounge singer shimmer  
> Elevator down to my make believe residency  
> From the honeymoon suite  
> Two shows a day, four nights a week  
> Easy money”
> 
> aka me romanticizing my own city knowing it’s actually a piece of shit town. i would highly recommend u listen to star treatment by arctic monkeys bc i had that record on repeat while writing this :) enjoy space cowboys!

The neon lights of Las Vegas were so bright they could burn skin with sin. 

People called New York the city that never sleeps, but the Big Apple couldn’t hold a candle to the mirage of chaos situated in the heart of the Mojave. This place was hotter than Hell and the citizens were like snakes, hiding from the beating sun at dawn and slithering out to hunt at dusk. The city was designed to overwhelm its “guests” with temptation. What happens here, stays here: an empty promise disguised as a secret. People talk, and the name had its own proud implication.

You didn’t have to say what you got up to in Vegas, everyone already knows.

The year was 1979. Javier Peña sat in a smoky lounge of the Flamingo, eyes lazily trained on a suited piano man playing away on stage.

He’d never come here willingly, but the DEA had him sent to Sin City investigating its suspicious abundance of every drug under the sun. Though Bugsy Siegel and many of the mobsters were long gone, the mafia still held Vegas by the balls. Their influence was atomic, going so far as to halt Metro in making any sort of move against them. Javi noticed it immediately on his first day in the office; the officers on the force only ever responded to petty crimes and traffic violations. Any call involving suited men and blow were brushed off and away. When Javi confronted one of the detectives, he only laughed in his face,

“Their lawyers are too good, Peña.

It was only when Javi took a walk down to a shitty convenience store for a pack of cigarettes did he realize the state of the city. He saw a group of kids who couldn’t have been older than 22, high off their ass and stumbling along the sidewalk. He did his best to ignore them, but the group suddenly got louder as a girl was tripping over her heels into the street, an oncoming car only seconds away. He acted quickly grabbing her arm and pulling her flush against him, Rolls Royce tearing down the road, horn blaring at the two of them.

“You saved my life there, Mr. Mustache,” she cooed, “How could I ever repay you?”

When he looked back to her, he tried his best not to cringe. Her pupils were so dilated, he was surprised her eyes didn’t pop out of their sockets. Then, he saw the white powder off the corner of her nostril and his stomach turned. She cackled at him, and he pushed her back to her coked out friends.

Javi learned two things that night: Vegas has horrible drivers, and anyone who came close to this town rotted from the inside out.

He figured that, in order to make any progress here, it would have to come from Hell itself. If he stuck around long enough, maybe he’d find something amongst the fields of ringing slot machines and gaudy carpet.

“Lose all your money already, son?” A voice drew him out of his thoughts. He turned to see a sharply dressed older man.

Javi faked a smile for the sake of being polite, “No, not yet. Maybe in a bit.” 

The man chuckled and sat in the leather chair to the left of him, “You should stay. They’ve got quite a show coming up.”

Fancyman bristles beside him reaching inside his breast pocket. The little bag that he pulls out is unmistakable. The high roller notices his stare, “It’ll be especially good with a little bit of this.”

Javi cocks an eyebrow at him and waves him off, “No thanks. I think I’ll just stick with these.”

He gestures to his pack of cigarettes on the small table.

“Suit yourself,” the man settles. He takes the powder on his pinky and snorts it into his nostril.

Javier holds back on rolling his eyes and instead leans into his seat. He pulls a cigarette to his lips, settling in for this magnificent show that Fancyman promised. He rifled through his leather jacket for a lighter, but nothing turned up in his pockets. 

“Let me get that for you,” a new, sultry voice whispers into his ears.  
  
Heat creeps up his neck as a hand splays itself across his chest, tracing the exposed skin under his black button up. A golden zippo in perfectly manicured fingers appears before him, flickering to life with a tiny flame. He leans in and takes a drag, acutely aware of the lips inches away from his ear. 

“Speak of the devil,” he nearly forgot about his company for the evening, “if it isn’t our little songbird.”

“Always a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Hughes,” Javi is strangely disappointed to hear the voice had drawn away, “Who’s your friend here?”

He turns around to introduce himself, but his name dies in his throat when his eyes catch yours. You could easily be a movie star with your bright red lipstick and perfect waves of hair. His mouth goes dry when you round the corner of his chair and sit on the armrest, lighting your own thin cigarette and storing away your zippo in your fur coat.

“I don’t know, darling, but I think he’s in love.”

“Is that so?” Your perfect lips form a smile as you curl them around the filter, “What’s your name, lover?”

He coughs into his sleeve in an attempt to prevent his voice from rising three octaves.

“Javier,” he says, “It’s just Javi, though..”

_Idiot._

“Javier,” he could get drunk on the way you say his name, “Well, _just Javi,_ could you hold onto this for me?”

His breath hitches when you slide the coat off your shoulders, revealing your body in a silk black strapless dress and a gold necklace with diamonds spilling onto your collarbone. You all but throw the fur onto his lap and stamp out your cig in the ashtray in front of him. 

“Enjoy the show, lover.”

-

Describing you as a “songbird” was a serious understatement. Javi found your voice fucking heavenly with the way it crooned out some old torch song from the 40s. He wasn’t the only one who felt this way; sober or not, the audience hung onto every note that left your lips and the room was at your command. Your smooth, honey-sweet voice melted through one melody to the next. Soon enough, you were thanking everyone for coming out and wishing the crowd a lovely stay at the Flamingo.

And then your eyes met Javi’s once again, and blood rushed to his ears.

Eyes glittering mischievously, you point directly to him, “This last song is dedicated to that man right there.”

The spotlight whips away from the stage, landing directly on Javi’s chair. He tried his best to remain stone cold, jaw clenched and dark eyes boring into yours from across the room. But his embarrassment was quite literally on display as he shifted uncomfortably under the white hot heat of the light behind him.

“Just Javi was kind enough to hold onto something very special to me,” you purred into the mic, “Please give him a round of applause.”

Thank God, for your coat. Had it not been there, the world would’ve seen the way Javi’s cock strained against his jeans.

He finally let out a huff of relief as the spotlight left his back and veered its way back to your place on the stage, your last song starting. Javi was quick to scramble for another cigarette. He looked at the coat in his lap, pausing in contemplation. His eyes darted between the fur coat and yours as you began to sing again.

_“I found a place_

_Full of charms_

_A magic world_

_In my baby's arms”_

His hands slithered their way to the folds of the coat on his lap, dipping into the pocket and pulling out the golden lighter. He flicked the sparkwheel, a tiny fire illuminating his the curves of his face as he kept his steely gaze on you.

_“Her soft embrace_

_Like Satin and Lace”_

Javi took a long drag, nicotine setting his chest aflame. Your black dress ripples along your legs as you cross the stage. You’re smooth in the way you pull yourself onto the grand piano, lying down and arching your breasts upward as you belt out the lyrics, shooting a dazzling smile to him.

“ _Wondrous place”_

-

“Excuse me, miss? There’s someone here to see you.”

“Tell him he needs to get in line.”

You see Tom, the baby-faced stagehand, bristle in the reflection of your dressing room mirror. He’s heatedly whispering with the person next to him. You always felt bad for giving him the chore of turning your suitors away.

And while you expect Tom to close the door and leave you in peace, he presses on.

“He-uh-he says he has your coat, ma’am.”

Your lips curl into a devilish smile, and you turn to your sweet blushing assistant.

“Oh, send him in then. He’s okay.”

The kid obeys, pushing your door further open. The man you’ve had your eyes on all night walks through, your fur coat wrapped along his forearm.

“What a lovely surprise, Just Javi.”

You watch him in amusement as his Adam's apple bobs in his neck. You relish in the paralyzing effect you have on him.

“I just came to return this,” his voice is tight as he tries to return your fur to you. You don’t miss the way his eyes trail over your body; your black stage dress was replaced by a cream silk robe loosely tied at your waist.

“Sure you did,” you tease. His jaw clenches. A small laugh spills from your lips, “Tom, could you give us a bit of privacy?”

Silence follows after the door shuts closed. You cross the room to stand inches before him, raising a hand to caress his cheek. The other rests on the coat in his arms. His ragged breathing is music to your ears. 

“You were great tonight.”

“I aim to entertain,” you rub your thumb over his cheekbone, “Thank you.”

He clears his throat, voice growing low, “That was a pretty mean stunt you pulled out there.”

“Not a fan of the limelight, Javier?”

“No, not particularly.” 

A coy smile creeps on your face when he leans in closer, lips parting in an attempt to catch yours. You slyly dodge Javi's mouth, and it connects with the crook of your neck instead. In his frustration, he bites down _hard._ A satisfied mewl escapes you.

“You’re driving me insane,” he huffs against your clavicle.

“What can I say?” he pulls away to look at you with wild eyes, “I like to play with my food, Javier.”

Chest heaving, Javi throws the damn coat onto the plush velvet chaise behind you. His strong, calloused hands are at your waist, feeling the curves of your body and pulling you closer towards him. You giggled in delight at his touch and your hands flew to clutch the back of his neck, fingers entangling themselves in his hair. You squeal when he goes to grab your ass, hoisting you up and wrapping your legs around his torso. He makes his way over to your vanity, and with a sweep of his right hand, he pushes off the contents of the table to the floor. Javi sits you up against the mirror, and takes your face in his hands.

“Let me kiss you, _mi amor._ ”

Your body swells with warmth. You didn’t plan on kissing him, but the way his accent echoed in your ears made you dizzy. Your hands drop to the opening in his button up, and you pull him in, lips crashing together. He shudders against you, tongue swiping across your bottom lip. You let Javi in with fervor, huffing against his lips. Your fingers work their way down his torso, unbuttoning his shirt. They come back to his shoulders, desperately pushing his leather jacket off his shoulders. Javi’s hands leave your face and shrug off both his garments onto the floor. Your face flushes with heat at the sight of his bare chest. He pushes himself closer between your legs, and traces his right hand towards your inner thigh. His other hand pulls the bow at your waist and your robe spills open revealing your naked body.

Javi groans at the sight before him, and his hand palms at your breast.

“Fuck, you’re stunning.”

“Take a picture. Lasts longer.”

“I intend to do way more than that, _cariño._ ”

Your heart flutters when he pulls your vanity chair in front of you and takes a seat. He spreads your legs out wide, hooking one of them over his shoulder. You hold your breath as he kisses along the inside of your thigh. Two fingers come up to your dripping pussy, massaging against the folds and spreading them open. His fucking tongue traces against your opening and you nearly cry at how good it feels. Javi drinks in every part of you as you squirm under his mouth like any parched man would in this desert. He moves his lips upward to suck gently on your clit, and inserts two fingers into you. 

“Javi!” you croon, “Javi, baby, it feels so good.”

“Yeah? Sing it for me, sweetheart. I love hearing your voice.”

You gasp when his digits curl inside you. You wrap your hand in his hair, and pull him back up to face you. He’s still pumping into you when he stands from the chair, and your leg falls back onto the table. Trouble flickers across your face as you reach down and grip his wrist. You pull his fingers out of you and take them into your mouth, swirling your tongue and tasting your cunt on his tips. 

“ _Shit_ , baby,” Javi grunts and uses his free hand to pull you flush against his hips. You moan at the feeling of his cock through his jeans. He presses his forehead against yours and removes his fingers from your hot mouth. Your deft hands fly to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. You claw at the waistband of his boxers, dipping your soft hands below to palm his thick cock.

Javi’s eyes shut at the contact, cursing under his breath when you wrap your fingers around the tip and squeeze.

“I knew I was gonna fuck you the minute I saw you,” You shift under him to whisper in his ear, “I’m so glad you don’t disappoint.”

“How?” Javi is barely holding it together, head spinning as you slowly stroke his shaft, “You couldn’t even see my face in the lounge.”

“No, I couldn’t. But I saw you in the lobby,” you push down his underwear and his cock springs out, “It was just my luck you came to see me.”

You pull him into another searing kiss, dick still in hand. His heart races as you rub him along your wet entrance. He leans forward and his arms pin themselves beside your head against the vanity mirror. He thrusts his length fully inside you, and the sound you make is _ungodly._ Your tight cunt is so warm and tight and he begins to move faster. The slapping of his torso against the back of your thighs reverberates around your dressing room, and your vanity table shakes with every push into you. Anything remaining on your table shifted and fell to the floor with the rest of Javi’s clothes. 

He pulls his hands away from your mirror, and he presses them into your shoulders for stability. His lips move from yours and attack your neck, sucking at the supple skin below your jawline.

You let out a strangled mewl, but chide “Not on my neck, lover. I’ve got a show tomorrow.”

Javi nearly whines in frustration and pushes you backwards, forcing you to arch your chest into him. He kisses along your sternum instead, sucking down hard and marking you with a purple hickey between your breasts. The sight riles him up further, and he plows into you faster.

“Fuck, Javier, I’m gonna cum!” 

“Look at me, _mi amor._ I wanna see you,” he tilts your chin upwards with his finger.

A wave of pleasure washes over you and your lips are chanting his name as you ride your orgasm. Javi has his own shortly after you, cum spilling into you and leaking around the sides of his dick. He pulls out of you and leans against the table, arms flexing next to your legs.You sit up and kiss the corner of his mouth. Pushing yourself off your vanity, you push past him and bend over your chaise lounge, shuffling through your forgotten coat. You turn back to Javier leaning against the armrest and you light one of your slim cigs. You take your first drag and pull it from your lips, offering it to him as you exhale. When he goes to take it from your fingers, however, you abruptly tug at his arm, throwing him onto your chaise. 

His bewilderment made you chuckle, “What are you doing there, sweetheart?”

Your mischievous smile returns as you twist the cig in your fingers, 

“Hold onto this for me, Javier.”

You stick the filter into the corner of his mouth as you straddle his legs, and you peel off your robe to reveal all of yourself to him.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay,” you coo as you lick your lips “but I don’t think I’m quite done singing for the night.”

You were no songbird. You were a siren. A succubus. Like everything else in Las Vegas, you would take and take and take and leave nothing but dry bones and dust in your wake.

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: las vegas is actually lame as fuck. 
> 
> but i hope u liked the very basic history lesson i peppered in there anyway haha. fun fact: the lawyers for all those mobsters actually became mayor at some point. 
> 
> the song mentioned in this fic is wondrous place by billy fury! 
> 
> the title is totally ripped from fear and loathing in las vegas! because we love references.
> 
> idk if there’s gonna b another part for this?? mayb if y’all rly want it i have a few ideas but after this i want to focus back on to migraine. lmk if u like it!! bc it was actually fun just writing about a place i know. hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> thanks for reading!  
> see u space cowboys <3


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